Nothing Sacred
by Sacred Dust
Summary: This is where I post all of my scenes that should not be...and there are quite a few of them. Beware. (Newest story: Part of the Act. The events of 'The F-Word' turn out far stranger than anyone expected...)
1. Idol

**Idol**

"So Quinn, want to go to a movie?" Stacy asked as she desperately changed out of her now-unfashionable slip dress. To think she'd almost committed a crime like that in front of Quinn! But it was okay-she had a foolproof outfit in mind.  
Her friend was still lounging on her bed, reading the latest issue of Waif. "Sure. What do you want to see?"  
"I don't know," Stacy stepped out of the closet wearing a pink baby tee and flare jeans. Just like her. She held a bottle of hair dye in each hand. "Whatever you want to see."  
Quinn finally looked up. Her eyes widened. "Um...what are you wearing?"  
"What do you want me to wear?"  
Quinn sat up. The surprise in her eyes dissipated, leaving something else behind. She dropped the magazine and walked over to Stacy.  
"You know, that kind of turns me on," she purred, watching Stacy freeze like a doe in headlights. "Now what are you going to do about that?"  
Stacy's mouth went dry. Her heart felt like it would pound out of her chest. She put down the hair dye. "Um...w-whatever you want me to do..."  
Quinn smiled.  
This wouldn't be such a bad sleepover after all...


	2. Topless Day

**Topless Day**

"Topless Dayyyyyyy!" Ms. Li announced brightly as everyone tried to look away. "Show your love for _Llllllawndale Hiiiigh_ by going topless!"  
"I knew she was never quite right after the Ultra Cola thing," Jane said. She kept her arms crossed for reasons of mood and modesty.  
Daria shivered. "At least then we got to wear shirts, albeit soulless soda company shirts. Where's Upchuck? He's been dreaming of this day all his life."  
"They had to send him to the hospital. Severe nosebleed."  
"I KNEW I looked good in anything," Quinn chirped as she walked past them with the fashion drones.  
Sandi looked away with a scowl of jealousy. "Hmph. STACY dear, a farmer's tan? I'm afraid I shall have to accept your resignation from the Fashion Ca-lub."  
"Oh no! Please Sandi, I'm sorry!" Stacy whimpered. "I'll try to tan more evenly."  
"It's just like my dreeeeeams," Tiffany remarked. Everybody edged away from her.

"Um, Janet," said a shirtless Mr. O'Neill. "I think what Angela MEANT to say is that we should leave our tops at home, not burn them."  
"Don't stand in the way of womens' rights, skinny. FREEDOM!" Ms. Barch shouted as she took a Bic to her last brassiere.  
Mr. DeMartino stumbled around them, his eye visibly bulging through the blindfold he was wearing. "I KNEW I should have studied a few more years. Taught at FIELDING ACADEMY. And they said THAT place was 'an uncomfortable working environment.' GAAAAH!"  
"YAY! I really AM the most popular girl in school!" Brittany cheered.  
"Thanks for pointing that out," Jodie muttered.  
"You're welcome!"  
Ted hurried past with his hands over his nipples.  
"Wow. You're going along with Topless Day too, Ms. Defoe?" Bib Overalls asked. She thanked the heavens that her 'bottoms' still afforded her some modesty.  
"What? Um...yes. Topless Day," Claire said nervously, hiding the pile of papers in her arms.  
Apparently she wouldn't need those 'FREE LOVE DAY' flyers after all.


	3. Good Morning World

**Good Morning World**

Daria opened her eyes and sat up in bed, fumbling around for her glasses. Her whole body ached. "Ugh," she said.  
"Urgh," a familiar voice answered next to her.  
"God, Jane. What did we DO last night?"  
Depends. Do you mean before or after Brittany brought over the chocolate syrup?"  
"Ugh," Daria said again. She did a double take. "Brittany?!"  
"Hiiiii, Daria," Brittany squeaked tiredly. "They really don't put enough in those bottles, do they?"  
"Ask Upchuck. If he's not in a diabetic coma."  
Upchuck groaned faintly next to Brittany.  
"No such luck," said Jane.  
Upchuck opened his eyes and brushed back his hair. "Thanks for the good time, ladies," he said in a normal, deep voice.  
"Um, ex-CUSE me Charles, but the pleasure was ours," Sandi smiled evilly from Daria's other side.  
"You were so awesome last night, Sandi," Stacy giggled next to her.  
"Did all that whipped creeeeeam make me look faaaaat?" Tiffany asked.  
Quinn cleared her throat. "Um, Daria? Next time, separate rooms."  
"Agreed," said Daria.  
"Hey, Ted," Kevin giggled, his pads still on. "You have, like, a lot of wood in your house. So, um...got wood?"  
Ted sighed. "Sorry, Kevin, but that joke isn't as funny as it was last night."  
"Tell us about it," Jodie sighed.  
"Even here we had to be next to each other," Mack sighed harder.  
"How big IS this bed?" Daria's eyes were larger than her glasses. Then she realized she wasn't wearing them.  
A giant lump at the foot of the bed moved and stuck its head out from the blankets, wearing Daria's glasses.  
"That answer your question?" grunted Mrs. Johansen.  
Everyone except her and Brittany threw up.  
"Wow. Maybe they DO put enough in those bottles!" the cheerleader exclaimed.


	4. Jiggy

**Jiggy**

"Hey!"  
It was the first time Daria dreaded hearing her best friend's voice. "...Oh. Hi."  
"What's up? What's going on? How ya doin'?" Jane sidled along next to her, talking too fast and obviously faking a good mood.  
She still wants to be friends, thought Daria. I don't know if that's going to happen...  
"No walkee to school today? What happened?"  
Daria was silent. She felt like an ugly truth was about to come out.  
Jane waved her hand in front of Daria's face. "Hey, what's up? Talk to me."  
Daria stopped walking. A heavy silence descended.  
"...I kissed your boyfriend."  
There. The words were out. They could never be taken back.

Daria turned around and stared at Jane, trying to process what she'd just heard. "What?"  
"I kissed your boyfriend. I kissed Upchuck. I didn't mean to."  
Daria gawked at her. Her look of shock slowly spread into a smile. "That's okay. I don't blame you."  
"I'm...sorry?"  
"Don't worry about it. We both know how mad hot Upchuck is."  
Jane licked her lips. "Oh, YEAH. I mean, um...thanks. I was worried you wouldn't understand."  
"Gees, Lane, you're such a prude. That stud already has eight other girlfriends. All you had to do was ask."  
"Wow," Jane said dreamily. "Maybe one day he'll find enough women to satisfy his sheer manliness."  
They looked at each other, and both burst out laughing. "YEAH RIGHT!"  
They freeze-framed. The 'Melrose Place' theme song started to play.

"AAAAAAHHHHH!" Daria bolted upright in bed. What a relief. It had all been a dream.  
"Awww. Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?" a voice said.  
"Yeah. I don't think you want to know about it," Daria switched on the lamp.  
Val sat up next to her. "Was it...EDGY?"  
"No," Daria sighed. "It was totally wack."  
Val giggled. "Don't worry. We'll soul-bond and head-click and you'll feel a lot better."  
The light went out again. And stayed out for a very, very long time.

Because...well, you know.

Because Daria and Val were getting jiggy.

If it helps you can imagine Daria being a few years older.


	5. The Tiger or the Kitten

**The Tiger or the Kitten**

"...And then the other thing is, who came up with the name 'tennis bracelet' anyway? It sounds like some kind of a sweatband, if you ask me. You know what I'd name them? Wrist ornaments. It's like a tree ornament, only for your wrist. Doesn't that sound festive?"  
Jane gently pushed her up the driveway to the Morgendorffers' house, where Daria was standing with an expression of mild surprise-which, for her, was total shock.  
"Take...her...NOW." Jane said wearily.  
"Gaaaah!" Daria cried, pointing wildly at Quinn. "What did you DO to me?"  
"I told you I was no good at this!"  
"Can't you hold on to one lousy sister?!"  
_I tried_, Jane thought. "I don't...I..."  
"You did this on purpose!" Daria accused her. "To take my dream of being an only child away from me!"  
"What?!"  
Quinn looked smug and checked her nails.  
"Get out of here, Jane!" Daria ordered her.  
Jane held up her hands. "Let me fix it!"  
"How?!"  
"I don't know..."  
"JUST GET OUT." Daria said coldly.  
Jane walked back down the street, totally crushed.  
Daria slowly turned back to Quinn.  
"Told ya she couldn't last 12 hours with me," Quinn giggled. "A hundred bucks, Daria! Fork it over."  
Daria grumbled and reached into her pocket.


	6. They Tried to Break You

**They Tried to Break You...**

Daria locked the front door quietly so no one would hear. She quickly turned and followed Jane into the living room with Tom and Trent, her eyes glittering with unforeseen possibilities. Her steps felt lighter, her mood less cloudy, her desire for company curiously strong.  
Now that she was out of the hotel, this wasn't such a bad day, was it? It might even be...highly tolerable.  
"Hey, Tom. Trent," she waved. They greeted her pleasantly. It was weird seeing them in the same place. It was almost like their combined bad outfits canceled out and made them seem even cuter. Wait, did she just think of Tom as CUTE?  
Calm down, Daria. It's still you in there. Or as much of you as there ever was to go around.

Jane was clearly wondering what the honor of her visit was owed to. "So, let me guess..."  
"They made me share a room with Quinn," Daria said blankly.  
Jane feigned shock. "They tried to break you, dammit!"  
"Actually," Daria replied in two voices at once, "They DID break me."  
She had the unique pleasure of seeing the undisguised horror on their faces as the truth sunk in. Now they were noticing the odd reddish tint to her hair, the unusual grace of her figure, the extra inch of height. And if they missed the hammer in one hand and the red-hot curling iron in the other, they wouldn't for long.  
"Ohhhhhhh, JANE," Daria giggled with her and Quinn's voices. "Cheer up. I used to be so alone, so depressed, so without color sense. But...WE'RE DOING MUCH BETTER NOW."  
She raised her weapons. It was time for a REALLY extreme makeover.

Their not-so-cute screams echoed into the night.


	7. Public Disturbance

**Public Disturbance**

Police detective Daria stared in disbelief.  
Guys. Guys everywhere. Probably half her graduating class from Lawndale High, dressed to the nines and standing on a seedy street corner. Hell, corner? They filled one whole side of the street. Cars would come, one of the guys got in and they would leave, but others just came back to replace them.  
"What do you think?" asked fellow detective Jane from the passenger's seat. "Drugs?"  
"Way too conspicuous. I'm going with indentured servitude."  
Jane finished her coffee and tossed the cup in the backseat.  
"Stop doing that," Daria said without looking.  
"Sorry, force of habit," Jane looked out the window again. "You know, this does qualify as a suspicious situation."  
"So?"  
"We could just drive up and ask them what they're doing."  
Daria sighed. "You really are new here."  
Nevertheless, she pulled the police cruiser around the corner and parked on the curb right next to the action. The guys backed off a few paces, but at least they weren't running away. That would be a nightmare. Especially because Daria didn't run.

She stepped out of the car with Jane close behind her. "Okay guys, what's going on? Not that I have any personal interest mind you."  
"Um...I think you will, Daria." Jane said. She suddenly looked pale.  
"What are you talking ab-" Daria's voice cut off as the guys parted like the Red Sea and the ringleader stepped out into the open.  
She was wearing thigh-high boots, black tights, an elegant tuxedo jacket with matching miniskirt and top hat, complete with a festive cane and several pounds of bling-making no secret of her chosen profession.  
"Long time no see, Daria!" chirped Quinn.  
"Um...you...how...why...um, purple?" the snarky cop was speechless for once.  
"Hey, don't be cramping our style," the redhead said, waving her cane reproachfully. "Pimping is, like, SOOOO not easy!"  
Daria fainted dead away.


	8. Go For Distance

**Go For Distance**

"HHHUUUURRRGH," Daria said. Messy splattering noises followed.  
"Wow, good one," said Andrea. "But not as good as this. BLLLLEEEEUUUUGGGGH!" Splash. "See? Mine went farther."  
"Dammit, dammit, dammit. You always win at projectile vomiting."  
"You don't just go for volume, Daria. You go for distance."

Suddenly the locker room door crashed open, and the Fashion Club walked in.  
"Step aside girls," Sandi said. "Let the pros show you how it's done."


	9. The Twist

**The Twist**

"No, no, NO!" Claude the director shouted at Daria the screenwriter. He threw the manuscript back onto the table. "You left out the most important part!"  
"The part where all the characters are devoured by vermin? I wanted to save that for the season finale."  
Claude sighed and waved his hand in a typically flamboyant gesture. "I mean the TWIST!"  
She stared at him blankly. "That's a little old-fashioned for our demographic. How about we go for broke and do the foxtrot?"  
"Not the dance, Daria! The twist ENDING. That is what we do on this show. Every single episode ends with a twist. Our audience is easily distracted. We need a surprise to keep their attention!"  
Daria frowned. "But if they're expecting a twist ending in every show, doesn't that defeat the purpose of surprising them?"  
"Don't try any of your fancy high school logic on me, missy. I must have a twist! As harsh yet graceful as a femme fatale turning on the runway!"  
His conversion from modeling agent to director was not going smoothly, Daria thought. Perhaps it was about time she told him the truth...and gave him a REAL twist.

"Okay, Claude," she said smoothly as she stood up from the writing table, "How about this? My name isn't Daria. And I'm not really a screenwriter for _One Tree Party of Melrose Creekwatch_."  
Claude's brow furrowed in confusion.  
"My real name is Melody Powers," she continued. She promptly ripped away her jacket and skirt to reveal a thong bikini, with the word 'DIE' printed on one breast and 'REDS' on the right. Three dollar signs decorated the bottom. "And I've been assigned to send a certain commie director out for the final curtain."  
Claude was speechless with terror as she pulled her Glock from its holster.  
"What a twist, huh?" Melody smirked.  
She emptied the cartridge, her psychotic smile growing wider with every shot. As always, she stood back to admire her work.  
Just as she thought. He was red inside, all right.


	10. The Swan

**The Swan**

"Want to go check out the potato salad swan?" Daria asked of Michelle Landon.  
"Lead the way," said Michelle.  
They approached the table, where a very real swan was sitting on a platter and looking extremely bored.  
"Hey," said the swan.  
"Um...hi." Daria said. Her eyes were wider than her glasses.  
Michelle smiled. "Didn't you hear, Daria? Terry Barry Barlow has a talking swan."  
"So it's a real swan, AND it talks? But where does the potato salad part come in?"  
The swan rolled his eyes. "You had to ask. Just a second..."  
He leaned over and vomited potato salad into a serving bowl.  
Daria looked very ill.  
"What's the matter?" the swan asked. "You want German instead?"  
Daria put her hand over her mouth and ran for the bathroom.


	11. Flush With Love

**Flush With Love**

_"Pssst."_  
Jane looked up from the sink where she was washing her hands.  
_"Psssst!_ Hey. Over here."  
She sighed. "The bathroom stall is talking to me again."  
"We _need_ to talk, Jane."  
"No, we don't. And quit using my name, it's too weird."  
"But you said I could call you Jane!" the stall protested.  
Jane wiped her hands. "That was a joke! I was talking to Daria. Look, this is getting too weird. It was okay at first when we were just chatting or whatever, but then you said you were in love with me, and..."  
"I am in love with you."  
"Stop it!" Jane clapped her hands over her ears. "Even if I felt the same way, it would never work. We're from two different worlds. Now leave me alone, okay?!"  
The artist fled from the girls bathroom.  
"But I've just been cleaned! Jane-come back!" the stall protested. Silence. "I knew it. She was like all the others." The toilet gurgled with sorrow. "She was just using me..."


	12. Let's Just Drive

**Let's Just Drive**

"Quinn, I'm so glad you wanted to see 'A Kiss Before Heaven'," Lindy mused as they walked back to the car. "I can't help myself. I'm a sucker for those tear-jerkers."  
Quinn giggled. "Are you kidding? I love hospital room movies!But I hate seeing them with guys. They always get mad because nothing blows up."  
"Guys love explosions, and rocket attacks, and death rays," Lindy agreed. "They don't understand how much more fun it is to watch someone die slowly."  
"I know!"  
They got into the car. Quinn took the driver's seat.  
"Speaking of which...um, what are we going to do about the body in the trunk?" Lindy asked.  
"Let's just drive," Quinn said, smiling eerily.  
*LA LA LA LA, LA*


	13. Testing

_I volunteered to write any kind of IC for a friend when he won it in a forum game on PPMB. His challenge: "to write a fic in which Kevin and Upchuck are romantically coupled." I knew I was asking for it..._

TESTING

"Testing," a sleazy voice echoed over the crowded stands. "Testing, one, two…sixty-nine. Grrrr!"  
There were widespread protestations in the arena, but as usual the speaker was unperturbed.  
"Remember when I called your winning touchdown in the game against Douglass?" Charles Ruttheimer mused, leaning back against the wall of the sound booth.  
"Um…yeah, I think so," Lions quarterback Kevin Thompson shrugged. He was busy rummaging through papers on the team announcer's desk, knocking half of them to the floor in his quest for the correct document. "Dude, can I get a little help here?"  
"I yelled so loudly," the oft-maligned 'Upchuck' continued as though Kevin hadn't spoken. "Everyone in the stands jumped out of their boots."  
"Huh? That wasn't a bootleg play." Kevin scowled into the sea of paper.  
"…Never mind."  
"FOUND IIIIIT!" The small-brained athlete whooped. He held up a spare copy of the team playbook with triumph. "I owe you one, bro. The coach would've killed me if he knew I lost it."  
"You mean if she knew. It's 'Amoral Morris' now, remember?"  
Kevin tucked the binder under one arm, from where it would (hopefully) never emerge. "Oh yeah! I forgot." He turned to go.  
Upchuck was suddenly in front of him. The door lock clicked ominously. "Not so fast, loverboy. You owe me one, remember?"  
The QB paused, shifted from one foot to the other. "Um, look man, can't we wait till after the—MMMMFFF!"  
"Mmmmm," was Upchuck's answer as he smothered Kevin's mouth in a saucy kiss. They fell onto the desk, conveniently sweeping off the rest of the papers with a muffled,_ "Feisty."_  
"What?! I don't do fists!" Kevin whimpered.  
"That's not what I said. But don't give me any ideas, you sick animal. _Rrrrowr!"_  
More kissing followed. But despite the pleasure unfolding in the booth, there was no joy in the crowd that had come to see tonight's football game. For, in the impromptu conquest of his new boyfriend…

Upchuck had left his microphone on.


	14. Shot From a Canon

_**Shot From a Canon**_

"Hi, Todd."  
She was always sitting on the front steps of the apartment when he walked to the gas station. That creepy little girl. Not that he'd ever admit to being scared.  
"Go to hell, kid."

"Hi, Earl," the little blond boy waved as his parents' car went past Highland High. Probably on their way to Highland Elementary.  
Earl hated that kid. Not enough to waste a bullet on him, but he went by _every damn day._

"Hi, Todd," the girl said, fixing him with eerie blue eyes.  
"Ain't there some strange man's car you can get into?" he snapped at her. No reaction, as usual. She was like a machine that said "hi." But she was real, and she was waiting for something. He wondered if, when, and what it would be.  
Then he turned his mind to what he would get with a five-finger discount today.

"Hi, Earl," Tad waved.  
Earl flipped him off as the minivan rolled on. The boy just stared back at him, smiling happily.

Todd knew he had an outstanding warrant, but he didn't expect the police to nab him right outside the apartments. He was quickly forced down to the pavement and handcuffed.  
"Hi, Todd," Tricia said as if everything were normal.  
If his hands weren't bound, he could have strangled her.

"Son of a b*tch," Earl said in amazement, staring at the evacuated high school building. Half of it was on fire; they could see it from inside the windows. There was a rumor that two unnamed kids started it by lighting their farts. Pathetic, but funny.  
"Hi, Earl." Tad called on his way past, as if a building wasn't smoldering right in front of them.  
_That kid ain't right,_ he thought.

Todd decided to go to the gas station at night. It was the only way he could think of to avoid her. He glanced at the faux-Rolex watch he had stolen: 2:39 AM. That should be good enough.  
He stepped outside the building.  
"Hi, Todd."  
"FUUUUUU-"  
Police quickly responded to 911 calls about a raving lunatic outside the apartments.

Earl hid in the bushes. He was ready this time. He couldn't decide whether to stay hidden so that goddamn kid couldn't say hi to him, or jump out and throw some good-sized rocks through the van's window. _Guess I'll play it by ear._  
The car went by, and there was that kid with his perfect little haircut and his sh*t-eating face...Earl had to stand up. He drew back his hand to throw the first rock.  
"Hi, Earl." Tad waved with one hand.  
With the other, he aimed a junior-size semiautomatic out the window and opened fire.  
_Hey, what's th..._ was Earl's last thought.

Todd had to get away from her. This time he used the fire escape on the side of the building. From there he could cut across a vacant lot. Finally he'd get through a day without that little b*tch saying hi to him.  
"Todd, old buddy!" Drawled a very familiar voice. "Fancy seein' your loser ass again."  
Slade. He had stepped out from behind a tree, aiming not one but two guns.  
"What the f*** do you want? I'm busy!" Todd snarled at his rival.  
"I'm here to finish our business, Todd. Once and for all." Slade aimed and fired.  
Todd ran around the side of the building as bullets whistled past him. That was lucky. He might get away, he thought.  
"Hi, Todd." Tricia said pleasantly.  
The blast from her sawed-off double-barreled shotgun was so powerful it knocked her over. But on the bright side, it knocked Todd over too, and he didn't get up.  
Tad and Slade approached her from opposite directions.  
"Good job, crazy girl. About time I got rid of those a**holes. Now the city's mine!" cheered Slade.  
"Oh, yeah. That reminds me." said Tad. He and Tricia turned around and gave Slade a little hot lead acupuncture.

"Wow. That was fun, Tricia." Tad giggled. There were flecks of red all over him. He seemed not to notice.  
"It sure was, Tad. Your aim is getting a lot better." Tricia hugged him. "It was fun at first, but I got so bored with them. Do you think that's the end of it?"  
"I hope so, Tricia. It would be a shame if these custom-made firearms and environmentally friendly bullets went to waste."  
They held hands and skipped off into the sunset, singing together:  
_**Daria**__'s cool and that is it, everyone else stay out of...out of...out of it..._


	15. Part of the Act

_A/N: I promised I would never ship Daria with Kevin. I LIED._

**Part of the Act**

"Daria..." Jane whispered slowly, as if saying her best friend's name for the first time-or, more likely, reassessing it.  
Daria leaned closer to her, trying not to spill the popcorn.  
"Two questions. One, what are we doing here?" Jane's eyes darted around the cramped art house theater where a crowd of misfits was sleeping through Eraserhead. "And two...why did you bring HIM with us? Was there a one-dolt minimum?"  
"Mmmff," Kevin munched popcorn on Daria's other side. "So the alien baby means change, right? Like, the _change_ in EH's life since he hooked up with that girl. And when he doesn't take care of it, that means he doesn't _like_ the change."  
"I don't know, Kevin. I think it means he won't take responsibility for his actions, and the gloomy, colorless bad hair day we see represents the wasteland he has made of his life." Daria replied. Kevin looked thoughtful. "And to answer your questions, Jane-we are here to enjoy an innocent night of culture at the cinema, and I brought Kevin because he had the freshest produce."  
"Twenty pounds, babe!" Kevin hefted the stuffed grocery bag with his usual innocent smugness. "But this place is so small, we won't need a whole lot, you know?"  
Daria smirked. "Good point. And don't call me babe."  
"Sorry babe," he said sheepishly. "I just keep thinking of Brit, you know?"  
The now popular brain gestured to her blue and yellow uniform. "Believe me, Kevin, I know. But hell's frozen over, and I'm the head cheerleader now."  
The QB brightened up. "Yeah! And you look HOT."  
"98.6 degrees the last time I checked."  
Kevin did a double take. "Whoa! That bad?"  
"Yes. I'm afraid it might be permanent," Daria rolled her eyes, but smiled at him fondly. "Unless somebody...you know...shares the heat with me. That might cure me."  
"OH. I gotcha," Kevin nodded slowly and winked. Jane stared with horrified fascination as they began to make out in the theater. Long minutes later the movie eventually ended, which led to the next dreaded act: an attempt by some local goth kids to reinterpret the film via modern dance. The happy couple finally disengaged.  
"Ready babe?" Kevin opened the bag.  
"Yeah babe." Daria accepted several tomatoes, and together they launched their own subtle critique of the dancer's performance.  
"Ahhhh! Eww! Eeeeek!" shrieked the leading dancer, a well-endowed blonde with dyed black hair. "Who's doing that?" She dodged some flying kohlrabi and peered furiously into the audience. "...KEVVY?!"  
"Y'uh-oh!" Kevin gasped upon recognizing his former girlfriend.  
The buxom former blonde jumped off the stage and stormed up the aisle. "Dumping me for the new head cheerleader and then spoiling my night out with my new friends? I'm going to KILL you, you big fat jerk!"  
"I knew I shouldn't have made you go to the tryout in my place." Jane snickered at her friend and leaned back to enjoy the carnage.  
"Run for it!" Daria grabbed Kevin's hand, and they fled the art house with three fruit-encrusted goths hot on their heels.  
The crowd applauded for the first time that night. As far as they knew, it was all part of the act.


End file.
